


The Feeling Isn't Lost on Me

by PythagoreanTeapot



Series: The Depth of my Heart, The Height of Your Soul [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Empathy, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends being supportive, Gen, Kidnapping, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 16:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19909111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PythagoreanTeapot/pseuds/PythagoreanTeapot
Summary: After the trial-by-fire start to their soulbond, Steve and Darcy find balance over time.Finding each other isn't as simple.





	The Feeling Isn't Lost on Me

**Author's Note:**

> Point of order: This is a sequel. If you haven't read the first one... honestly, you can probably work out what's going on here without it. All you really need to know is that this is a world where soulmates can feel each other's emotions. But, the first story is pretty short and (overall) sweet, and the general consensus seems to be that it's worth reading so... why wouldn't you just go read it first?
> 
> Huge thanks for all of the lovely feedback to the last story. I know I've completely lost the ability to respond to comments (my inbox hit a terrifying number a while ago and I have no idea how to even start dealing with it) but please know that I read and love everything you send. I honestly was not expecting such a strong response to that story!
> 
> On that note, it's very nerve-wracking posting a follow up to something that people have declared such love for. I worry this won't be what you're expecting or wanting. But, at the same time, there are things in this story that I, personally, genuinely love. So, maybe I should just shut up and trust myself.
> 
> Also, fair warning, I feel like my grammar may have slid more than usual on this one. It's not uncommon for me to forget syntax when I get caught up in story, but I've got a cold this week and I suspect that might have made it worse. Sorry if that's something that bothers you.
> 
> CW for the obligatory kidnapping plotline.

Steve ducked into the lab, knocking on the open doorway as he stepped in to make sure he didn’t startle the only person inside.

“Steve!” Bruce looked up from his notes, “Hi. I didn’t know you were in town.”

“Just finished a mission with Tony,” Steve jerked his thumb over his shoulder in vague indication of Tony’s location, “Thought I might as well stop here on the way back to DC.”

“Sure.” Bruce nodded, “Tony’s certainly got the space for extra people around here. I know he doesn’t always make it clear, but you’re welcome to stay anytime.”

“Yeah.” Steve paused for a minute and then huffed out an awkward breath and cut to the chase, “I, uh, I was actually hoping I could talk to you about something.”

“Got a science problem, Steve?” There was a tension in Bruce’s voice now, and Steve knew it was the lingering assumption that people cared more about the Hulk than him.

“Not a science problem. It’s personal.” Steve looked down. “I need to ask someone, but… I don’t really want this to end up in any files or records. I thought, of everybody I could ask, you seemed the most likely to understand wanting keep something from SHIELD.”

Bruce frowned at him for a moment before speaking, “JARVIS, privacy protocols.”

Bruce stood and moved around his desk, leaning back against it to face Steve. “What do you need to ask?”

“Ah, it’s about my… soulmate.” Steve began hesitantly. He’d never spoken about this with anyone and felt a rush of nerves just saying the word aloud.

“Peggy Carter?” Bruce asked in confusion.

“What?” Steve looked up with a frown, “No, Peggy wasn’t my soulmate.”

“Oh, sorry.” Bruce shook his head and offered an apologetic smile, “That was the general consensus of the history books, but we all know how they like to make things up. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“I… um…” Steve took a deep breath and steadied himself to say what he needed to, “I never had a soulmate. Not before the ice.”

Bruce’s expression had taken on that slightly intense curiosity that scientists often seemed to get around Steve, “But you have one now? Wow. That must have been a shock.”

Steve let out a soft laugh, “You could say that. It definitely took some getting used to.”

“ _Are_ you used to it?” Bruce asked.

“Mostly.” Steve confirmed with a shrug, still feeling immensely uncomfortable even having this conversation. But he needed answers. “But something’s happened the last couple of days. I don’t know what it is, and I need… I need help.”

“Well, I’m certainly not an expert, Steve, but I’ll help if I can.” Bruce agreed, “What happened?”

“I can’t really feel them anymore. I can still feel _something_ there; it’s not like before the ice when there was just nothing. But it’s not working properly. It’s like nothing is making it through.” Steve tried to find the words for it.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Does it feel sort of scratchy, like there’s an irritant in the back of your head? Metallic taste in your mouth?”

Steve looked up in surprise, “Yeah.”

“Bond blockers.” Bruce nodded easily.

Steve frowned, wondering if those words were meant to mean something to him. “Bond blockers?”

“It’s medication that can block the soulbond. I’m surprised SHIELD didn’t cover them when you first defrosted; they’re pretty common and have been for a few decades. Your soulmate must be taking them.”

Steve paused for a moment as the implications of this sank in. There was a medication out there to block soulbonds. Medication that had been around the whole time he’d been awake. Every bad day he’d had that had been made worse by the knowledge that his soulmate had to suffer it too, and there had been a solution the whole time. They could have skipped all of that.

And every good day, too. Every moment when their heart had pulled him out of despair. Every brush of comfort they’d offered each other.

It had taken time to find balance in their bond. Steve still had no idea who they were, had no idea how to find them either, but he didn’t need to know their name or their face to know that they were the most important person in his world.

They were the only reason he was still standing, had held him up through the worst of things. And, he’d thought, he’d held them up, too.

But they had decided to take it all away.

“But, why start them now?” He spoke aloud, though the question was directed more at himself than Bruce. Even he could hear the distress in his own voice.

“There are all sorts of reasons to take blockers,” Bruce told him calmly, voice full of understanding, “I live on blockers – can’t risk my soulmate’s anger triggering the Hulk. But people go on them temporarily all the time, too. It’s standard practice for any military personnel to take them when they’re in a combat zone. There are all sorts of medical reasons someone might need them. Depending what they’re looking for, soulbonds can interfere with some brain scans. I’m assuming you don’t know who your soulmate is to be able to just ask them, but do you have any reason to think they’d have chosen to block your bond long term?”

Steve sighed, “I don’t know. Obviously, mine’s not the easiest bond to carry. Even those misguided history books could tell you that. But we’ve been good for a while. Or… I thought we were. But maybe they just didn’t know there was an alternative before now.”

“How long has it been since the bond faded? And what were they feeling before that?” Bruce asked.

“About two days.” Steve answered, “And they were… stressed. Worried. Maybe a bit afraid.”

“What about guilt? Uncertainty? Regret?” Bruce asked.

Steve shook his head.

“Well,” Bruce sighed this time, “You probably won’t know for a while, but I’d think if they were making the decision to block your bond permanently, there would be at least some of those feelings in the mix. It could be nothing, Steve.”

“Right.” Steve nodded, wishing he could believe it, “Or it could be everything.”

They stood in silence for a moment, no other comforts to offer.

“Why don’t you want SHIELD to know you have a soulmate?” Bruce asked curiously.

“I… I don’t really know.” Steve shrugged, “At first, it was because I wasn’t ready to face them. I thought SHIELD would go looking for them and I didn’t want to find them at the start. Things were… bad for a while there. Then it was kind of nice having something that didn’t involve SHIELD, something that was just mine. And they’re so… happy. Even carrying my mess in their head, they’re still so optimistic and cheerful. And I know they have people around them who love them. I didn’t want SHIELD dragging them into our world. Now… I honestly don’t know if those reasons hold up anymore, but I guess I’m not quite ready to make that decision yet.”

“Did you think your soulmate might want to know who you are, though?” Bruce asked, no judgement in his tone.

Steve shook his head pensively, “I never got that feeling from them. They always seemed content with what we have. Or, again, I thought they were.”

“Then I’m sure this block is just temporary. And whenever you do decide to track them down, you can ask them about it. But that should be your choice, when you’re ready for it, so it makes sense to keep them off SHIELD’s radar.” Bruce agreed and clapped Steve on the shoulder. “Your secret’s safe with me, because you’re right, I do know how to keep them.”

“Thanks.” Steve smiled sadly, then the smile dropped as he asked quietly, “Do you miss it?”

“Every day.” Bruce admitted.

“Apologies for breaching privacy protocols, sirs,” JARVIS voice cut suddenly into the heavy weight of their conversation, “But there are reports of a category 1 attack on London. Currently there is only confirmation of one unidentified vessel in the heart of Greenwich. The individuals conducting the attack do not appear to be human.”

The two men shared one quick glance at each other before sliding back into Avenger mode and rushing from the room.

\----

“I’m telling you, Jane, this is different.” Darcy forced herself to stop pacing and dropped onto the sofa in the corner of the lab.

It had been over two years since Darcy had been hit with the soulmate sledgehammer, and she was pretty good at reading their emotions these days. She never got their feelings mixed up with her own anymore, and she knew how to handle most of the things coming from them. Their nightmares were disturbing, but she could focus on her own comfort and safety to help ease them out of whatever hell their dreams threw at them. They were clearly an adrenaline junkie, but Darcy was a bit of a thrill-seeker herself. The hyper-focus they went into regularly was something she had pretty much never felt on her own, but it didn’t bother her.

Darcy had her own share of nightmares and anxiety and self-doubt, and when she fell into her own dark thoughts, her soulmate was always there, steady and unwavering, refusing to let her face it alone.

“Well, is there anything in the news about Captain America?” Jane asked, bringing Darcy back to the present issue.

Darcy shot her an annoyed look, “We don’t know it’s Captain America, Jane. Stop trying to push that.”

Jane rolled her eyes at her, “Yeah, it could just be someone else who came back to life around the same time, lost everything, was dealing with something intense during the battle of New York, and goes into combat frequently. Just accept it, Darcy, your soulmate is a superhero.”

“Your argument is flimsy at best.” Darcy disputed, “You’re the one who said there could be hundreds of explanations for my sudden soulbond, lots of people were in New York when Loki showed up, and many of them might work in combat situations. Besides, the internet thinks Steve Rogers already has a soulmate, and it is someone way more qualified to be a superhero’s soulmate than a perpetual intern whose main skill is reminding people to eat. I’m not Captain America’s soulmate, Jane. He’d need someone way better than me.”

“Hey,” Jane glared at her fiercely, “That’s my best friend you’re talking about. I _have_ a superhero soulmate and I would trade him in for you any day of the week, Darcy Lewis. You are absolutely the best person I know, and if your soulmate, whatever star-spangled person that might be, doesn’t know that they’re goddamn lucky to have you, then _they’re_ not good enough for _you_.”

Darcy was saved from having to respond to that overwhelming statement when Ian burst into the room.

“Did you hear the news?” He was gasping like he’d run there.

“Uh… no?” Darcy guessed, since the last news she’d heard hadn’t warranted running.

“Captain America has been arrested.”

Darcy could feel Jane’s pointed stare and avoided turning to meet her friend’s eyes. Jane had promised long ago to keep Darcy’s soulmate situation secret, but somehow through the silence Darcy could still hear the _I told you so_.

“Shut up, Jane.” She ordered sullenly, turning to her computer to pull up the latest report.

\----

“Will you do me a favour, call that nurse?” Natasha asked with a small smile.

“She’s not a nurse,” Steve reminded her.

“And you’re not a SHIELD agent,” She pointed out.

Steve glanced down and then up again as his heart stuttered in his chest at the thought. “What was her name again?”

“Sharon. She’s nice.” Natasha told him sincerely.

On instinct, Steve made the snap decision he’d been toying with for months.

“I would,” He told Natasha, anticipation making his voice tight, “But there’s someone else I’m interested in.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him in interest, “Really?”

Steve braced himself to admit it, but he’d been thinking about it long enough, and he trusted Natasha.

“Yeah,” He met her eye, “My soulmate.”

She blinked at him, her reaction carefully masked, “You don’t have a soulmate. That’s been in your file since Project Rebirth.”

“I didn’t.” Steve nodded, not surprised that she had checked, “But I guess they were born sometime in the seventy years since that.”

“It’s been two years since you woke up,” Natasha pointed out, and he could hear the disappointment in her voice, “And you’ve been hiding that the whole time?”

“I felt bad about it sometimes, had been thinking about mentioning it for a while.” He admitted with an easy-going shrug, “But after the last week? I have no regrets about keeping them out of SHIELD’s sights.”

“Why tell me now?”

Steve glanced away and sighed, “For a long time, I didn’t want to find them. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want anyone to go looking for them. I wasn’t ready to find out who they are.”

“And now you are.” It wasn’t a question. “But if you don’t know who they are, how do you know they’re someone you’d want to be romantically involved with? You don’t even know their gender.”

“Whoever they are, they’re… amazing. They’ve chosen to carry everything I do, and they are without doubt one of the main reasons I’m still standing today. I may not know who they are, but I already know that they’re the most important person in the world to me. Maybe we won’t work in that way, but they’re worth the chance.” Steve shot her an assessing gaze and continued, “And as for gender – I know there are more options than we were told when I was growing up. I don’t see why gender should be an issue.”

She considered him for a few moments before offering him an understanding smile. “Okay. I’ll do some digging, let you know what I can turn up.”

“Thanks,” He smiled back, leaning in as she rose to kiss his cheek, then watched in silence as she turned to leave.

“Be careful, Steve,” She turned back to look at him one last time, nodding her head toward the file she’d given him about the Winter Soldier, “Might not want to pull on that thread.”

As she walked away, he opened the folder to look down at the picture of that so familiar face. He’d said ‘til the end of the line, and he’d meant it. Whatever it took, he would find Bucky.

And he’d trust Natasha to find his soulmate.

\----

“You know, it’s not healthy to put off things that could make you happy now because of some maybe in the future.” Natasha announced without preamble as she wandered over to him where he was unwrapping his hands in the gym.

He shot her a quizzical glance, not sure what she was talking about.

“I think you should ask out someone else.” She told him, not bothering to pretend she was here for some other purpose.

Steve huffed out a sigh, “I’m not interested in someone else.”

“It’s been months,” She spoke quietly, voice laced with regret, “I’ve checked everything I can think of. I’ve got no leads on your soulmate, Steve. I’m sorry.”

Steve dropped his gaze, the cold dread he’d been trying to ignore pushing to the forefront.

“It’s funny,” He said humourlessly, “I really thought with all the technology and resources today, they’d be easy to find. I thought I was protecting them. Turns out, I could have told people from the start. Then, maybe, we’d actually have made progress by now.”

“I’m not going to push you on this, Steve, and I’m not going to stop looking,” She reassured him gently, “But I worry you’ll ignore good things right in front of you if you’re only looking to a future than might not work out. I just want you to be happy, Steve.”

Steve drooped with a sigh, and shot her a sad but grateful smile, “I know.”

Natasha tossed an overly casual tone into her voice. “Did you hear Tony finally convinced Jane Foster to work for him? She’s going to be moving here in a few weeks, and she’s bringing her assistant, Darcy. I met them during the clean up after Greenwich. Darcy’s a great person. I think you’d really like her.”

“Nat –” Steve’s hands clenched on the wraps he still held.

“Don’t answer now.” She told him, “Hell, don’t decide for months. Just… just think about it.”

She gave him a questioning look as she moved backwards toward the doorway. After a moment’s consideration, he gave her a resigned nod.

After she’d left, he dropped to a bench and sank his head into his hands. He tried to make himself accept what Natasha was telling him, that he might never find his soulmate. He tried to imagine a future, years from now, still knowing them only by their reactions to the world.

He let those reactions sweep over him for a moment, rinsing away his own despair. For days, his soulmate had been a whirlwind of excitement and nerves, and now was no exception. Though, he could sense their thoughts were tamped down slightly, with an edge of concern that he knew was always for him.

Over the years, they’d both gotten adept at separating their emotions, no longer dragged along for the ride when the other felt something particularly powerful. They could choose to, though, and sometimes they’d spend whole days intentionally feeding each other particular things. Regardless of anything else, they were friends.

Steve wanted more. He wanted to hear the stories behind their feelings. He wanted to tell them in words and deeds just how much they meant to him. He wanted to thank them for saving his life.

He wanted to tell them he loved them.

Best estimates suggested 12% of people never met their soulmate. It hadn’t worried him that he was in that group back before the ice. He hadn’t known what he was missing.

Natasha was right. With no leads left to follow, he needed to prepare himself for the possibility that he was still going to be in that 12%.

\----

“Cap, wake up!”

Steve came awake and upright in a single motion, somewhat surprised to find himself safe and alone in his own room in the tower. He shook his head, trying to remember what he’d been dreaming, but it had already faded leaving nothing but a vague feeling of disquiet.

“Cap!” Tony’s voice cut through the air.

“Tony?” Steve looked up at the ceiling in confusion. Usually, Jarvis would wake him before patching anyone through to his room.

“Got a situation.” Tony told him. “Tasha and I are on our way to look at it, but I need you to go find Thor and keep him contained before we pass the news along.”

“What news?” Steve asked warily, already rising and getting dressed.

“Jane Foster has been kidnapped.” Tony announced.

“What?” Steve froze for a second before continuing to dress more quickly now. “Weren’t they flying in today?”

“Something happened after they landed. There’s no video or audio recording from the minute they touched down, so we don’t know yet what, but the pilots and the flight attendant are dead, and Foster and Lewis are missing.”

“Don’t you think Thor has every right to be there?” Steve asked, moving through the hallway toward the apartment Thor had excitedly been setting up in expectation of their arrival.

“Every lead we have to finding them is in that plane. We can’t afford to have him stomping in over the evidence. Just keep him from flying off hammer first until he understands that.” Tony replied.

It didn’t go well. It could have been worse, Steve supposed. He’d only had to physically block Thor from leaving once, and Thor hadn’t actually been willing to hurt him to get past. It was still one of the worst conversations Steve had ever been a part of.

Eventually, though, Thor settled and accepted that he wouldn’t be helping Jane by going. _Settled_ might have been a strong word for it – he still paced the conference room they’d commandeered, unable to stay still, twirling Mjolnir threateningly.

Tony kept their comms open as he and Natasha arrived at the scene and spoke to the officers who had secured the plane. There was some discussion about who had already been through the plane, confirmation that only the bodies had been touched so all other evidence should be intact. Then they heard Tony tromp up the few steps into the plane.

“Well, shit,” his sigh came over the speakers, and Steve tensed, eyes on Thor as he, too, froze in his pacing.

“Gas grenade,” Natasha pointed out, her voice clinical with the working mask she could conjure in even the worst moments, “Won’t know until we get it tested, but it probably had a sedative of some kind, knocked them out for easier extraction.”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, opening them again at a crunching sound. Beside him, Thor had crushed one of the wheelie chairs that littered the room.

“Tony, can you get us a visual?” Steve asked, straightening, “Give us something we can work with.”

“Right,” The response was quick, “JARVIS, full scan.”

Steve moved closer to the wall as the screens around them lit up with images and data. He spotted the gas grenade Natasha had mentioned surrounded by a mess of papers and books. There was blood by the exit; the flight attendant’s, he knew from the earlier discussions. It was one of Stark Industries smaller planes, just the one section for passengers with the door to the cockpit propped open at the end.

Steve’s mind was already cataloguing details, considering and discarding ideas.

While the conference room filled with more information, one of the screens shifted to a video display, showing Tony’s own perspective as he looked around the space.

“Sir,” JARVIS interrupted the silent contemplation of all four Avengers, “I’m detecting signs of life to your left, likely in the bathroom.”

Thor’s head shot up in sudden, intense alertness.

“There’s no one in the bathroom,” Tony responded, confused, as he strode that way, “The police would have checked that.”

Sure enough, when he opened the door it was to find the bathroom completely empty.

“Sir, this model has a recessed shower concealed in the wall to your left.” JARVIS directed, “If you press on the right side of the panel it should open.”

Tony followed the instructions and they all stared in shock at the figure revealed when the wall slid open.

“JARVIS –?” Tony didn’t have to finish the question as the AI took over.

“Dr Foster’s life signs are stable, sir, though reduced to a level consistent with general anaesthesia. I have requested an ambulance.” JARVIS informed them.

Thor shoved back from the screen, spinning toward the door.

“Take a comm unit,” Steve called after him, not stupid enough to try and stop him, “And don’t go on the plane unless they clear it.”

“How the hell did she get in there?” Tony asked, and Steve could see him looking around the small bathroom for clues.

“Darcy.” Natasha’s voice had Tony turning to reveal her standing in the doorway. She wasn’t looking in at Jane, though, but out at the rest of the plane.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, turning to look at the images of the plane that still covered the walls around him.

“The gas grenade landed right in the middle of complex astrophysics notes, right where Jane would have been sitting. She would have been hit with a concentrated dose immediately. But look,” She gestured to the other side of the cabin and Steve had to look back at Tony’s view to work out what she was pointing at. “Headphones, a book, and snacks in the opposite corner, furthest from where the gas started. Darcy would have had time to react before it knocked her out.”

“Are you saying that you think Lewis, surrounded by knockout gas, dragged Foster into the bathroom, opened the shower, shoved her inside, closed the shower, all before passing out herself?” Tony asked incredulous.

“And left the bathroom and moved several steps away from it,” Natasha pointed out some pattern in the fall of the papers that Steve didn’t understand. “That’s where she fell, and where they dragged her away.”

“You think Darcy could have done all that?” Steve asked quietly, heavy with dread at the fate that would be waiting for that brave woman when she awoke.

“Yes.” Thor’s voice joined the others in a rumble over the speakers. “The Lady Darcy can achieve a great deal when she chooses to, and her loyalty to Jane is both incredible and humbling.”

“Okay, so they’re attacked. Knowing they’re probably after Foster, Lewis hides her and lets herself be taken instead.” Tony summarised, “That just gives us an even shorter timeframe to find Lewis, because they’re not going to happy to have the wrong person.”

\----

Steve stared blindly at the screen in front of him, unable to take in any more information.

It had been two hours since the others had returned to the tower. Two hours that they’d spent sifting through images and information, trying to find some hint at who had taken Darcy and where. And still, they had nothing.

Tony was taking up a full half of the room, moving through holograms and a dozen different projections, seeing things only he understood. Bruce and Sam had joined them, each claiming a computer and working through any intel they could find. Natasha had been alternating between digging out buried files and contacting obscure sources.

Thor had spent the first hour down in the medical wing with Jane, but when they’d confirmed that the drug she’d been dosed with would have no longer term effects, but would keep her down for another few hours, he’d joined them as well, unable to sit back when his friend was in trouble.

And despite so many hands there to help, they still had almost nothing to show for it. The raid on the airplane had been well executed. There were no clues as to who was behind it, they had no idea how they’d figured out which plane to attack since their travel plans had been kept confidential and there was no other trace of a leak, and the physical evidence left behind wasn’t leading anywhere.

They didn’t even know where to start looking.

“Steve,” Natasha’s quiet voice pulled him from his dire thoughts. She stood next to him, the look on her face something he couldn’t quite read and her voice tight with something he wasn’t sure he wanted to identify, “I found Hydra’s file on Darcy. It was buried with a bunch of unlabelled reports. You need to see this.”

She held out a tablet to him, and he took it with a frown, a coil of dread he couldn’t explain settling in his stomach.

The page had some other basic details, but his gaze was drawn to a brief comment that Natasha had highlighted.

> _Though her records clearly show that Lewis’ soulmate died in infancy, she was seen taking bond blockers consistently during the lead up to the attack on Greenwich. When asked she claimed that her soulmate has PTSD and it would be bad for them to be hit by what she was feeling at the time. Further attempts at questioning were unsuccessful as Lewis continuously avoided answering and never again admitted to having a soulmate. She is clearly better at lying than initial assessments concluded._

Steve’s eyes shot to Natasha’s as he finished the paragraph, and he had to remember to breath before he could ask her what he needed to ask.

“You think…?” The rest of the words failed him as the implications swallowed everything. In his hands, he felt the tablet screen crack.

“Even we’ve been using Greenwich as a point of reference,” She reminded him, “I was looking for blocker prescriptions in the months before and after, but just how close was the timing? Because this seems like a hell of a coincidence.”

Steve barely registered as Bruce shifted beside him and took the damaged, but still functional, tablet from his hands. The words he’d just read slid through his mind, catching on thoughts and worries that had plagued him since the day their bond had faded, even months after it had come back just as strong. _It would be bad for them to be hit be what she was feeling_. Could it be that his soulmate, who had carried his own apocalyptic experiences with barely a pause, had taken blockers because she worried how he would handle the same experiences coming from her?

“The timing is exactly right,” Bruce spoke up when Steve didn’t respond, “When you came to ask me about it, we were interrupted by Greenwich.”

Steve thought of everything he knew about Darcy Lewis. Brave enough to taze Thor. Loyal enough to follow Jane across the whole world long before the world realised the astrophysicist had been right all along. Stubborn enough to fight through sedatives to drag her friend into a flawless hiding spot. Stupid enough to let herself be taken instead.

And above all, currently, terrifyingly missing.

“It’s circumstantial,” Steve croaked out the argument, unsure who he was trying to convince, “We don’t know it’s her.”

“Are you getting anything now?” Natasha asked, astute gaze watching him closely.

Steve swallowed back the dread in his heart, “No, but… But that might not mean anything. She could just be sleeping; she’s usually in a different time-zone.”

“Like, maybe London?” Bruce asked.

Steve shook his head, “We don’t know…”

“Steve,” Natasha gripped his hand and waited for him to meet her gaze, “If you tell me you don’t know, then you don’t know. But that’s the first time you’ve ever used gendered pronouns when you talked about your soulmate.”

Steve closed his eyes, certainty and uncertainty warring within him. The evidence was negligible. Coincidence did happen. There was almost nothing rational to back it up. But it _felt_ like it made sense, even when he couldn’t have told anyone why.

“Got a lead over there?” Tony called across to them, “Something you want to share with the class?”

Steve looked up, hesitating over the answer to any of the questions being pointed at him.

Natasha saved him from having to work out one of them as she retrieved the tablet from Bruce and moved across the room to where Tony and Thor were standing.

“Darcy might be Steve’s soulmate,” She told them simply, holding out the tablet with the report in explanation.

Steve registered the shock of the rest of their party even as he tried to sort through his own. Thor took the tablet from Natasha, scrolling through the rest of the file. Sam stared at Steve in silent assessment. Tony, unsurprisingly, jumped directly into a disbelieving rant, first that Steve had a soulmate, then that he’d hidden it.

Steve ignored all of them.

He’d been looking for his soulmate for months, had loved them for years. This could be the answer to all of his questions. Or it could be just another detour that didn’t lead to anything.

Either way, a brave, selfless, innocent person needed their help.

“It doesn’t matter.” He interrupted the conversation around him, voice hard and unwavering. The others dropped into silence at his announcement.

“Of course it matters, Steve,” Bruce reached out to him, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“No, it doesn’t. We don’t know for sure, and we can’t know until…” He trailed off, not sure he wanted to consider what the confirmation might be. Shoving the thought back, he focussed on the decision he’d already made, “If it doesn’t help us find her, then it _doesn’t_ matter.”

Silence followed his proclamation for a moment, and then Thor spoke up voice thick with anger.

“I remember this conversation,” He was staring at the tablet that held that one, brief but world changing note, “There were few present to hear it. Besides Jane, Darcy and myself, only Erik or Ian could have provided this information.”

Both Tony and Natasha spun into action at that, and in a moment the various screens and holograms in the room were taken over with background checks and social media accounts for Ian Boothby. Natasha moved among the different pages of information, highlighting things seemingly at random in different spots. After a moment, she stepped back.

“He’s Hydra.” She announced surely. “It’s a solid cover, very thorough. If I wasn’t looking for it, I wouldn’t have seen it.”

“He was helping them pack,” Thor noted, “He could easily have obtained the information about their flight details.”

“JARVIS, start facial recognition searches, London and New York.” Tony ordered, “There’s no financial activity in the last two days to confirm where he is.”

“I’ll call him.” Natasha selected one of several phones she’d been using that morning, “See if we can track his phone.”

“Is that a good idea?” Sam asked, “What if they realise we’re onto him?”

Natasha shrugged, “He’s a known associate, and it’s known we’re looking for Darcy. Why wouldn’t we call him?”

They fell silent as Natasha put the phone on speaker and ringing filled the room. When he answered, Natasha slid easily into a professional-but-caring tone.

“Hi, Ian, this is Natasha Romanov. We met briefly last year?”

“I – uh, Agent Romanov, right, I remember.” Nerves came through strong in Ian’s voice, but Steve supposed most people would be nervous to have the Black Widow call them out of nowhere.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Ian, but there’s been an incident involving Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis. Their plane was attacked shortly after landing and they were both taken by the unknown assailants.”

“What? That’s not –” His voice was sharper this time before he cut himself off and continued more carefully, “I can’t believe Doctor Foster’s been kidnapped.”

Natasha raised a pointed eyebrow towards the others at his choice of phrasing.

“I know you had been helping them pack and prepare for the trip,” She continued, her voice betraying nothing of her thoughts, “Did you notice anything unusual in the last weeks? Any suspicious activity? Any unknown people hanging around?”

Across the room, Tony threw up his hands in silent frustration without looking away from the screen he was working on and gestured for Natasha to keep him talking.

“Uh, no…” Ian responded hesitantly now, “Not that I can think of. But I wasn’t really looking for something like that, not sure I’d have known if I did see it.”

“Can you tell me the last time you saw or spoke to either of them?” She asked, tone carefully shaped to sound like she’d asked the question many times that day.

They listened as Ian recounted incredibly benign encounters and unremarkable occurrences. Natasha continued with gentle questions, asking for additional details here and there to keep him on the line, but after several minutes he made an excuse to end the call, promising to call the number Natasha gave him if he thought of something.

Not wanting to raise his suspicions, she let him hang up.

As soon as the call ended, they all turned to Tony who started speaking immediately.

“The signal was bouncing all over the world. Definitely not something that comes with a standard phone plan. Managed to narrow it down some – he’s definitely in New York – but I needed more time to pinpoint his location.”

He gestured and a map of the city appeared in the middle of the room, a large corner highlighted in red.

“About a 10 block radius,” He continued, “Could be anywhere in there, and there’s a lot in there to work through.”

“It’s a hell of a lot closer than what we had 10 minutes ago.” Natasha pointed out and started handing out tasks to narrow that area down.

\--

It hadn’t taken long to find an address for Ian. JARVIS had located his arrival at La Guardia the day before and tracked him through the airport to find the cab he’d taken. With the cab number in hand, they’d been able to get the address he’d been dropped off, and Natasha and Sam had quickly set out to get a closer look at that place. They didn’t know, yet, whether Ian was still in there, and even if he was, they couldn’t be sure that was where Darcy was being held.

They were just half an hour into the stake out when Sam called with the news.

“Got him.” He announced without preamble, “Walked straight out the front door, now he’s in the deli two doors down, ordering enough food for at least 6 people.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve tried to force his mind into planning mode. It usually came so easily to him, but today was about as far from usual as it got, “So we know he’s there, and that he’s not alone. But we still don’t know for sure that _she’s_ there, or which of the 20 floors in that building they might be on.”

“Third floor,” Natasha declared without hesitation. “Used to be a recording studio that went under a few months ago and was abandoned as is.”

Tony pulled up the details, trying to see what had drawn her attention to it. “There are at least 4 other companies and two empty floors in that building that we haven’t ruled out, why that one?”

“Recording studio means soundproof rooms.” She answered, sending a chill down Steve’s spine at the reminder of why they might need soundproofing.

Tony threw the floor plans up in the centre of the room and they worked through it, entry points, exit points, likely places for her to be held. They ran through timing and approaches and what to do if she wasn’t there.

“I’ll be the one to say it,” Tony leaned forward heavily on his elbows. “This could be a trap. Boothby wasn’t hard to find. Could be they’re feeding him to us, dangling this spot right in front of us. Smart move would be to take more time for recon, make sure we know what’s waiting for us inside.”

The tablet in Steve’s hands shattered as his grip convulsed suddenly.

“Seriously, Rogers?” Tony sighed, “I don’t _actually_ have an endless supply of those, you know.”

Steve couldn’t keep his voice even or calm as he croaked out two short words.

“She’s awake.”

After a moment to take in Steve’s shaking hands and unsteady breath, Tony pushed himself back up to standing.

“Fuck smart.” He declared, “Let’s get these assholes.”

\----

Darcy woke up suddenly, going from unconscious to terrified in a heartbeat. For an instant, she didn’t know why she was scared, then she registered the chair she was sitting in, the ropes tying her wrists firmly to the chair arms, and the vague memory of panic came back to her. It was indistinct, uncertain. There had been gas, she thought, and… Jane.

Was Jane here, too? Worry clawed at her chest and she looked around her hoping for any clues about where she was and what might happen next.

She was in the centre of a small room, empty as far as she could see apart from herself and the chair she was tied to. Most of the walls were empty, too, though they were patterned with something, but in one wall there was a window. It was dark. She couldn’t tell if it that meant the room on the other side was empty, or if it was the kind of glass that would hide the room being occupied.

Pushing at the ground with her feet – not tied to the chair, she noted – she manged to scrape the chair around enough to look behind her, spotting the most useful thing in the room: the door.

Almost as soon as she spotted it, it opened and the figure walking through it made her heart stop.

“Hey, Darcy,” Ian shot her a casual smile as he moved around in front of her. The nonchalance felt more malicious than anything else he could have done.

Darcy had never really considered the feeling of betrayal before this moment. If she’d been asked, she might have guessed it would be a combination of anger and hatred. But in that moment, the thing she felt most was disgust.

Disgust at _herself_. For not seeing it.

Some part of her brain woke up at the realisation and tried to inform her that that was internalised victim-blaming, something she wouldn’t have accepted from anyone else and shouldn’t put up with from herself, but it was a tiny echo in a cavern of self-doubt.

How could she have let this happen? She’d trusted him, had told him all sorts of things, called him for help all the time, considered him a friend. She’d handed Jane’s research over to him without a blink. Why hadn’t she seen it? There must have been signs. Signs that she’d missed. If only she’d been paying more attention, if only she’d done something different, surely, she could have prevented this.

“I’ve got some questions for you, Darce,” Ian leaned against the wall in front of her, his smile edging from casual into smug.

He _liked_ seeing her like this. He was _proud_ to have put her there.

That small part of her yelled louder at the realisation, and, at the same time, in the back of her mind she felt the foreign and familiar stirring of an anger not her own. Her soulmate’s fury slid into her, cold and sharp, and she embraced it, letting it fill her core with steel and ice, pushing all her fear and doubt to the side.

Beneath the anger, encased in it, threaded through so it couldn’t be separated, was an absolute, unshakeable _certainty_. A feeling so strong and so clear that she could practically hear it as a whisper in her mind.

It said that everything would be okay. Because whatever was coming, they would _make it_ be okay.

“Let’s start with why the Avengers seem to think that we have both you _and_ Jane.” Ian continued, his smug grin failing to hide anger and frustration, “Because somehow between me dropping _both_ of you off at the airport, and the team searching the plane when it landed, Jane completely disappeared. Why don’t you tell me how exactly that’s possible?”

His description sparked something in Darcy’s memory and she recalled shoving Jane into the shower that they’d exclaimed over when they forced the flight attendant to take them on a full, detailed tour of the plane, certain it was likely to be their only trip on a private jet ever.

“Fuck you,” Darcy spat, struggling to keep her own smug smile contained now. Maybe she had invited this viper into their home, but she’d apparently managed to keep Jane out of his hands when it mattered.

“I don’t think you appreciate your situation here, Darcy,” Ian pushed away from the wall, leaning forward into her space to glare down at her, “I’m not your intern anymore. No one here is going to jump at your command or bow to your, frankly absurd, whims. You _will_ tell us what we want to know, I guarantee that. The only question is what state you’ll be in when you do.”

Darcy kept her jaw stubbornly shut, staring down Ian – was that even his name? – as he waited for her to say something.

After several minutes when he seemed to expect her to suddenly start talking, he sighed and turned away.

“And usually I couldn’t get you to shut up,” He muttered, making some kind of gesture at the window that answered whether the room on the other side was occupied. “Guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

Darcy remained silent as he walked to the door. She turned her head as far as she could and saw him jerk the door open, but she couldn’t see past him to what lay beyond from that angle.

She wasn’t sure how long he was gone. She’d tried counting but had lost count somewhere around minute three. Enough time, though, for her to shuffle her chair all the way around so she was facing the door. If they’d really want to sneak up on her, she thought, they’d have attached the chair to the floor.

When Ian did come back, he wasn’t alone. A woman followed him, wearing a lab coat and pushing a metal trolley. As the trolley got closer, Darcy spotted medical equipment. Mostly things she didn’t recognise, but the needles were pretty clear.

“Hydra’s been working on quite a few experimental drugs,” Ian announced as the woman shifted the trolley beside Darcy and started setting up to do _something_. Darcy flicked her gaze between the woman’s hands as they manoeuvred the tools and Ian’s face as he made his revelation.

She also realised, as he spoke, that she hadn’t even bothered trying to work out who he worked for. Somehow, in light of his betrayal, it hadn’t mattered which evil organisation he was teaming up with.

But hearing him say _Hydra_ still sent a shock through her.

“I think you’ll like this one.” He told her moving forward with a predatory step, “Lowers the inhibitions, removes all those pesky verbal filters, and I know how much you hate those. Soon you’ll be spilling all your secrets to us.”

“I don’t even _have_ secrets,” Darcy pointed out, trying to stop herself from shrinking back in her chair when the woman turned toward her with a very long looking needle in her hands, “I literally told you my most embarrassing moment the day we met. And remember how long I managed to hide from Jane the fact that I’d broken her whatsamacallit? Seven minutes! I’m terrible at keeping secrets, everyone knows that.”

“You know, that’s the conclusion they came to when SHIELD first assessed you after Thor landed.” Ian admitted, “But I know better. I’ve caught you in a lie before, Darcy, and you told it as easily as you told me about peeing yourself at camp. You’re a much better liar than they gave you credit for, which means, for all I know, you could be lying anytime. But not with this.” He gestured at the needle in the woman’s hand.

“Turn her arm over so I can find the vein,” The woman ordered in a tone that said she was used to being obeyed. Ian moved to Darcy’s left and gripped her wrist firmly, shooting her a warning glance as he carefully untied the rope.

She tensed as he unbound her, feeling the steel of his grip on her arm as he turned her wrist to face upwards. He was waiting for her to fight him, expecting her to react. Instead, Darcy forced her muscles to slowly relax slightly. She let them manhandle her arm into an angle the woman liked, waiting for a better moment, waiting for their guard to drop.

As the needle neared her arm, she panicked, unsure whether it was better to take the nigh impossible chance to try and escape before they injected her with an unknown substance, or to let them do it because they were more likely to lower their guard after injecting her. Her indecision swallowed the opportunity, and before she could figure out the best option, the needle was sinking into her skin.

They didn’t want her dead, she reminded herself as she watched the plunger press downwards, they wanted her talking. As the woman pulled the needle back out of her arm, Darcy felt Ian’s fingers release just a fraction and she seized the chance without hesitation. She yanked her arm from his grasp, barely noticing the needle dragging sharply across her forearm as she moved, and at the same time she kicked her knee up as hard as she could into his crotch.

Ian staggered back a single step, and the motion gave her enough space to shove to her feet, pulling the chair around her in an arc by the armrest that she was still tied to. The woman was moving in reaction, but she wasn’t fast enough as Darcy sent her chair smashing into her face.

Darcy moved toward the door, even as Ian shoved unsteadily back to his feet. Glancing around for another weapon, Darcy found the needle they’d just used on her now sticking out of the muscle of her arm, further down from where they’d injected her. She pulled it out with her still bound hand and then swapped it to her untied left hand. Without waiting for him to recover, Darcy shoved the sharp point towards Ian’s face, not caring, when he cried out, where exactly she hit him.

He recoiled, and it gave her enough of an opening to shove through the door, dragging the chair with her.

The hallway she found herself in was empty, though she could hear shouts not far away that she hadn’t heard from inside the room. She stumbled in the direction of the shouts, then stumbled back, trying to remember whether going toward or away from sound was smart. She took several unsteady steps, not knowing which way she was moving. The chair dragging on her arm caught her notice and she stopped, staring down at it. She should untie herself. That’s what she should do. The chair was annoying. And so boring. So boring it was almost remarkable, just a metal chair, four legs, two arms, no shape or decoration. Where would you even find such a remarkably unremarkable chair? Why would anyone bother to make it?

A noise from her left made her look up and she remembered that she was running away. Away. That was important. Someone might be coming after her. She glanced at the still empty hallway around her and wondered which direction _away_ was. Away wasn’t just _not here_ , she was pretty sure. There was another _here_ that she was meant to be going _away_ from. If she could just remember where that was.

There was a light, down the hall ahead of her. It was a pretty shimmery light, the colour shifting and swirling. That was as good a direction as any, she decided, moving towards it. An odd sound followed her down the hallway, a sharp metallic grinding. She stopped, looking back to see what made it, but when she stopped, it stopped, so she couldn’t see where it was coming from.

As she looked back for the third time, a door opened and someone stumbled out. Ian had one hand clasped to his face, over his left eye, blood oozing between his fingers.

Right. That was what she was going away from.

She spun back to the hallway, moving determinedly forward, but the ground was unstable beneath her feet, and the heavy, awkward weight dragging on her right arm slowed her down. He would catch her, she was sure, running wouldn’t save her. She needed to do something else. Something… something that wasn’t running.

Ahead of her, a figure came around the corner so fast he rebounded off that wall, and Darcy stumbled to a stop as sudden, pure relief washed through her. She didn’t even flinch as the man in front of her threw something toward her. It bounced off the wall next to her and collided with something behind her with a quiet _clang_. Darcy didn’t blink and didn’t look back to see what had happened. She stepped forward instead, tripping towards the person she knew she could trust.

“Darcy?” Captain America was right in front of her now. He must have moved as well, because she didn’t think she’d taken enough steps to get to him. His hands moved and tore through the ropes at her wrist with ease. Darcy reached out with her now free hand, fingers skittering over the star on his chest, seeking purchase on the wall of man in front of her, but apparently body armour was not designed to give others handholds, because her hand slid uselessly across the icon he wore.

“I feel weird.” She told him, her own voice echoing oddly in her ears.

His hands came to frame her face as he stared down at her, radiating concern. He inspected her face for a moment, before he spoke again.

“Do you know what they gave you?” He asked, and she felt something settle in her at the sound of his voice. He should speak more, she decided. He should speak all the time.

Her fingers found some kind of loop on his uniform and curled into it, gripping on. When he asked the question again, she remembered the meaning of some of the words and frowned up at him as she tried to find the answer in her head.

“Said… make me talk.” She told him, but that didn’t make sense, “But… I don’t… can’t even…words.”

A sudden wave of nausea hit her and she barely had time for one sharp inhale before she was doubling over, managing to hit both of them as she threw up.

“ _Gross,_ ” She managed as she looked at the mess, but he didn’t seem phased as he swooped her into his arms in one motion. “Super gross.” She informed him, thinking maybe he’d somehow failed to notice.

“I’ve got Darcy,” He spoke above her head. He made some motion and suddenly there was something cold and curving digging into her side. “They dosed her with something and it doesn’t seem to be doing what they thought it would.”

Yes, Darcy thought, closing her eyes against the swirling world, he should talk all the time. She stopped trying to parse the words he was saying, just letting the cadence of his voice and the safety of his arms carry her into darkness.

\----

Steve had just stepped out of the shower, only halfway through drying off, when a curl of suspicion and fear told him that Darcy was awake. He paused only long enough to drag on the sweatpants and t-shirt beside him before he was running out the door.

Not wanting to wait for the elevator, he was halfway down the stairs to the medical floor when Jarvis informed him that there was an ongoing incident and Miss Lewis was not responding positively to Jarvis’ attempts to calm her down.

Steve could have told him that.

He dashed from the stairwell, bare feet skidding across the smooth floors as his eyes locked immediately on the frozen scene in front of him.

“Darcy.” He spoke calmly, straightening slowly with his hands out as he took in the sight of his soulmate threatening the nurse on duty, Olivia, he recognised, with a scalpel.

She looked at him, wide eyed, then looked back at the blade in her hand.

“Oh god,” She pulled back quickly from her threatening pose, almost throwing the knife in her haste to get it out of her hand. She covered her mouth with one hand, staring Olivia in horror, “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought I was still…”

“Yes, that was clear.” Olivia answered faintly, stepping back from Darcy.

Steve moved closer carefully, not wanting to startle either of them.

When Darcy shot him a look, he could see the guilt in her eyes as clearly as he could feel it in his own heart.

“Why don’t we get you back to your room?” He suggested gently, stepping as close to Darcy as he thought he could without intruding in her personal space, “Give Olivia some space to… recover.”

Darcy shot Olivia another guilty look, but the nurse’s quick nod of agreement made it clear space was her preferred option, so Darcy turned and let Steve lead her back to the room she’d woken up in.

“I’m sorry,” He told her quietly as they entered the dimly lit room and watched her climb carefully back into the bed, “I hadn’t wanted you to wake alone, but everyone unanimously insisted that I shower first.”

She froze at his words, blankets pulled only halfway over herself. Unable to stop himself, Steve reached out to draw them up the rest of the way.

“Do I, um, do I remember… throwing up on you?” Darcy asked with a wince.

Steve glanced up at her apologetically. “You might.” He admitted.

“Oh god,” Darcy dropped down into her pillows, covering her face with her hands, “That’s got to be the worst possible first impression.”

“Not your fault.” Steve assured her, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blankets, “And it certainly wasn’t our first impression.”

She dropped her hands at that, biting her lip instead as she looked at him.

“How long have you known?” She asked nervously.

Steve glanced down at his hands, folding and unfolding the edge of the blanket. He shrugged, and looked back up at her, “ _Known_ known? Since you woke up in that cell.”

“Suspected?” She asked, and he could feel her own nerves playing off of his.

“We, uh,” he shot her a guilty glance, not comfortable with how much he’d learned about her through other sources, “We looked into you pretty extensively while we were trying to find you. Some things lined up.”

“Oh, right.” He felt some kind of uncertainty and regret slip through her.

“I’m sorry,” He blurted, “I’m sorry if you weren’t ready to meet, if you didn’t want this. We can… I can go. You don’t have to be…here.”

He didn’t move though, when he said the words, no matter how much he told himself he should.

“What are you talking about?” Darcy’s confusion roused him from his attempts to make himself stand.

He looked up at her, mesmerised for a moment at the way her bewilderment was reflected in the crease between her brows, a quirk at the corner of her mouth.

“You kept the bond hidden,” He shook himself from those thoughts, forcing himself back on track, “We looked for you for months without a trace. Natasha was even trying to convince me to date other people. If you had wanted to find me… you would have been easier to find.” He couldn’t stop his voice turning wistful with regret at the end. He tried to shove the emotion back. It wasn’t fair to force that on her, not when she deserved to make her own decision about this.

“Steve,” She gave him an exasperated sigh and reached suddenly for his hand, dragging it into her lap and linking their fingers, “It wasn’t a coincidence that Jane and I were moving here, you know.”

“Wait,” He narrowed his eyes at her, just the feeling of his hand entwined with hers settling so much of his nerves, “How long have _you_ known?”

She shrugged, and he felt a twist of guilt but also an edge of playful pride as she responded, “Sort of… a while.”

He smiled slowly as he caught her glancing at him slyly, “Define a while.”

“Well, Jane figured it out pretty soon after your resurrection was announced,” She admitted, “And I spent an absurd amount of time trying to convince both of us that she didn’t know what she was talking about.”

“And you stopped trying… before you decided to move where I live?” He needed to hear her confirm it, though he could already feel the answer between them.

She rolled her eyes at him, “Obviously.”

He grinned at her. Simple joy bubbled up within him and he didn’t care whose it was.

“Wait,” She narrowed her eyes at him as something sharp but indistinct shot through her, and by extension him, “You said Natasha was trying to make you date other people. Does that mean…?”

Steve shot suddenly upright, panic setting in at his slip.

“That’s not – I mean, not if – There was meant to be a whole conversation.” He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, searching for some way to salvage things, “I don’t want you to think – If you don’t want –”

Darcy let out a laugh that cut him off, drawing his gaze back to her, “Steve, breathe. You don’t need to jump straight to panicked and flustered. You can literally feel what I’m feeling. So maybe just take a beat, take a breath,” She took one herself in demonstration, “And assess.”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment and followed her instructions.

The smile that blossomed on his face was beyond giddy, he knew.

He didn’t care.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Some bonus things that I thought were going to happen but somehow never made their way in:  
> \- a conversation between Steve and Bruce about whether Steve should be taking blockers since that's standard for people in combat situations. The conclusion of which was that, with the serum, blockers wouldn't work on Steve's end anyway so he'd just have to trust his soulmate to decide for themselves what they could handle  
> \- the explanation for why the drugs Hydra gave Darcy didn't work as expected (short version: Hydra is inept.)
> 
> If you're wondering whether there could be more to come, I'll say that I don't have anything else planned at this point. I know there's still lots of space left for more in this story, and even more space for other stories in this world. And it's been a lot of fun writing these smaller things! But, I think next I'm going to go back and see if I can wrangle any of the bigger, messier stories clogging up my head. 
> 
> So, for now, I'll be leaving it at this, with a vague maybe-someday for more.


End file.
